Wednesday, July 15, 2026

When Trust Slowly Returns

 

When Trust Slowly Returns

From Dissertation to Essay

Trust is one of the words we use most often, yet rarely examine closely.

We say that we trust a person, an institution, or a society. We say that trust has been broken, or that it must be restored. But what does it actually mean to trust another human being?

Perhaps the answer begins with a simple experience.

To trust someone is to dare to make oneself dependent.

The person who trusts places something of their own life in the hands of another. Not necessarily in a literal sense, but existentially. We believe that the other person will not use our vulnerability against us.

Trust is therefore always connected with risk.

No one can guarantee that it will not be abused.

The First Trust

A small child does not reflect upon whether to trust its caregivers.

The child lives in trust before it can think about trust.

It allows itself to be lifted.

It falls asleep in another person’s arms.

It seeks comfort when it is afraid.

This fundamental trust is not primarily a decision. It is a way of life. The child depends upon the world being inhabited by people who, for the most part, wish it well.

When this trust is met with care, something more than security develops.

The child gradually learns that the world may be a place in which it is possible to be vulnerable.

When Trust Is Betrayed

The opposite occurs when the person who should protect becomes the one who violates.

Then it is not only the body or personal boundaries that are harmed.

The very understanding of other human beings may change.

The person who inflicts the violation is often the same person upon whom the child depends. This is precisely what makes the experience so profound. The child does not merely lose safety. It also loses an important foundation for understanding how the world is held together.

What should have been predictable becomes unpredictable.

What should have been safe becomes dangerous.

What should have been love becomes entangled with fear.

The betrayal therefore becomes more than a single event.

It becomes an experience that may shape later relationships.

Mistrust as Protection

We often speak of mistrust as a problem.

But mistrust may also be a form of wisdom.

A person who has experienced serious violations often learns that caution is necessary. Allowing others to come too close may involve danger.

From the outside, this may look like rejection.

From within, it may be experienced as self-protection.

It is therefore important to understand that mistrust is not always irrational.

It may be grounded in experience.

What once protected the person may later make life more difficult. But this does not make the protection meaningless.

It was a way of surviving.

No One Is Entitled to Trust

In helping relationships, trust is often spoken of as though it were a prerequisite.

We must create trust.

We must establish trust.

But trust cannot be demanded.

Nor can it be produced through good intentions alone.

It must be earned.

A person who has experienced betrayal owes no one their trust.

Not the therapist.

Not the social worker.

Not the doctor.

Not the priest.

The professional’s task is therefore not to ask for trust.

It is to act in ways that may, over time, make trust possible.

Small Experiences

We often think of trust as something large.

Perhaps it is more often built through small things.

An appointment is kept.

A telephone call is answered.

The other person remembers what was said last time.

A promise is not forgotten.

Silence is allowed to remain silence.

Trust rarely grows from one decisive conversation.

It develops through repeated experiences of the other person proving to be the same person the next time as well.

The extraordinary often rests upon the ordinary.

Enduring Being Tested

A person seeking help will often test the helper.

Not necessarily consciously.

Perhaps the person arrives late.

Perhaps they cancel several appointments.

Perhaps they reveal something small at first, in order to see what happens.

This should not immediately be understood as resistance.

It may be an investigation.

Are you someone who will remain?

Can you tolerate my doubt?

Will you disappear if I withdraw?

A person who has experienced betrayal will often examine the relationship before daring to rest within it.

Trust and Freedom

Genuine trust does not bind people to one another.

It makes them freer.

When we know that we will be met with respect, we no longer need to devote all our attention to protecting ourselves.

We can think about something else.

Learn.

Work.

Laugh.

Love.

Trust releases energy that would otherwise be used for vigilance.

Trust therefore concerns more than relationships.

It also concerns the possibilities of life.

Recognition Before Trust

Through the work on my doctoral dissertation, I gradually became more concerned with the idea that recognition often has to come before trust.

A person rarely begins to trust someone who first attempts to persuade them.

Trust more often begins when the person experiences that they are being taken seriously.

When their experiences are not minimised.

When responsibility is placed where it belongs.

When their pace is respected.

When the other person does not attempt to take possession of their story.

Recognition is therefore not a reward offered after trust has been established.

It is often the condition that makes it possible for trust to begin to grow at all.

The Slow Transformation

There is no particular date on which a person can suddenly say:

Now I trust again.

The change often takes place almost unnoticed.

One day, the person realises that they revealed a little more than before.

That they dared to ask a question.

That they allowed the silence to continue without fleeing.

That they accepted help without immediately withdrawing.

Such moments may appear small.

Yet they may mark a profound existential movement.

Not away from the past.

But away from the past’s exclusive right to define the future.

Trust as Hope

Perhaps trust is ultimately a form of hope.

Not the hope that no human being will ever betray us.

That would be naive.

But the hope that betrayal need not have the final word.

That there are still people who can meet another human being’s vulnerability without exploiting it.

That relationships may still be places where dignity is preserved.

Through the work on my doctoral dissertation, this became one of the most important insights.

Shame and violations may destroy trust.

But they do not abolish the human capacity to experience trust again.

The way back is rarely quick.

It cannot be forced.

It grows through countless small experiences of being met with respect, truthfulness, and reliability.

Perhaps this is the deepest meaning of professional social work—and of all good human relationships.

Not that we can promise another human being a life without pain.

But that we can become part of the slow experience that the world does not consist only of those who betrayed them.

It also consists of people who remain.


Shame and violations may destroy trust.

But they do not abolish the human capacity to experience trust again.


This essay was written in a conversation with OpenAI/ChatGPT


This essay is part of the series “From Dissertation to Essay” and is based particularly on the dissertation’s existential-dialogical discussions of trust, recognition, relationships, shame, and the gradual rebuilding of trust after violations: Pettersen, K. T. (2009). An Exploration into the Concept and Phenomenon of Shame within the Context of Child Sexual Abuse: An Existential-Dialogical Perspective of Social Work within the Settings of a Norwegian Incest Centre. NTNU.

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